Kate went to the grocery store the other morning. She had a list. McLovin gave it to her. It had the usual requirements: milk, OJ, toilet paper and ice cream. [Editor's Note: Yes. Ice Cream is a staple in our house. You're welcome. Come over any time. - Kate] Then the random incidentals: chicken broth, Swiss cheese, ant traps [Editor's Note: Betcha you don't want to go over quite so badly anymore, huh? - Lydia] All in all, there were nine things on the list. Nine. Three hundred and ten dollars later, Kate walked back in the door. What happened? She went shopping hungry. Bad, bad idea...but it got her thinking, "What kind of food would Lydia be? What kind of food would I be...something delicious but a pain in the ass. Like an artichoke. Yeah! And Lydia would be funny and awesome but a little bit gross, like an opened package of Sour Patch Kids that you decide is worth the risk. And that you maybe didn't pay for..."
And then next thing she's knows, she's buying artichokes and strolling through the aisles eating shop-lifted candy... she's turned all her friends into foods. Oh, and she decided she's not an artichoke after all. But they were delicious when we had them for dinner...
A Starbucks Half-Caf, Half Skim-Half Soy, Three Pump Caramel No Whip Latte Mom: We imagine these moms would be fantastic, eventually. But Jiminy Christmas, who has the time for all that crap? We need to meet you, make a fairly rash yet justified opinion of you, and just stick with it. Plus, what happens when this mom, once you've got her all figured out, changes? Because we're not just swapping up yoga pants for jeans here. We're going from a Kate to a Lydia. Or a Lydia to a Kate. And, Maude knows, you just can't do that. If Lydia came home over for tap class next week being all --Kate, we'd have to Chuck Norris it out right there on the driveway.
Fruit Mom: Everyone loves this mom. She's sweet and rosy and healthy. And, every once in a while, she says or something tart-y and everyone goes "oooh" like it's interesting and a little bit naughty and not "ewww" like they all need to visit the free clinic for shots. She comes in all different shapes and sizes, so no one ever feels left out and everyone has a favorite. This is the most diverse of the mom food groups. But, this mom requires attention. She might not exactly have the longest shelf life...forget to return a few phone calls, and next time you see her, she's a little bruise-y. Wait a few more e-mails, and, well, it's just time to move on.
Chocolate & Ice Cream Mom: The kid pick mom. She's like Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, minus all the life lessons. Your kids want you to be friends with C&IC Mom; they need you to be friends with C&IC Mom. But being friends with her is like going to Vegas. You get sucked in, there's no visible way out of the crazy, it's totally indulgent and when you do finally stumble back into your life, it takes three days to readjust. Or button your pants.Meat & Potatoes Mom: Super easy to meet, easy to like. She helps out on a moment's notice, does the jobs we sorta dread like making sure the soccer team has soccer balls. Or, making sure there is a soccer team. She's way laid back, so there's no worry about how you look or maybe that you didn't shower. Actually, there's a good chance she didn't either. But you'll never know for sure, because that involves actual talking, and M&P Mom isn't too chatty. You had a rough day and need a Selfy-Steam and some girl talk over an USWeekly. Steer the other way, mommies. M&P Mom needs to change the oil filter. And, no, she's not headed to Jiffy Lube. She's doin' it herself. We kinda want her to live next door. We hear she's super handy with a wrench.
Champagne Mom: What's not to like? She's super fun to be around. She throws the best parties, you can totally ask her for something at ten o'clock the night before a big project is due or you need glue sticks or orange felt for a carrot costume and she's like "Yeah! Come on over! We totally have everything that you need!" provided that need is booze and Dancing with the Stars and somehow at 11:45pm it seems like a *really good* idea. Problem with Champagne Mom? She's useless in the morning. Your kids costume is now made of an old jack-o-lantern pillowcase with an actual fern on his head, and you're using the glue sticks to keep your eyelids open. Veggie Mom: Like Fruit Mom, she's healthy and fit, but maybe not quite so sweet about it. She's a little judge-y and asks your kids questions like, "Does your mommy make nutritious snacks when you come home from school?" And even though you totally gave them hummus and pita bread yesterday, they narc on you and say that you gave them chocolate cake for breakfast. Which. You. Did. But only because it was Backwards Day and we're having pancakes for dinner. Did your little angels also happen to
mention they had baked chicken and corn with that cake? No? Ingrates.
mention they had baked chicken and corn with that cake? No? Ingrates.Peanut Butter Mom: This is Kate. Hands down. Because Peanut Butter Moms either 1) go together perfectly with almost every other kind of mom: Celery? Yep. Apple. Oh, yes! Chocolate? Even Yesser! And, they're equally awesome on their own. Spoon? Thank you very much. And she could be smooth and fancy or she could be crunchy and cloggy and it still works! Or, 2) she makes you suddenly feel the need to stab yourself in the chest with a needle.
Which is why Kate doesn't hug. Safety first, people. Safety first.
(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2010
